Fried Chicken
by D'quer Jyi-Weil
Summary: It all started as a game... but that game ended the instant she started skipping meals. And even then, only her enemy could reach her.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** All characters and the setting belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling. 

**Author's Note:** For Kel.

* * *

Ginny waited in one of the back hallways of the school. Checking her watch, she began pacing, flipping her hair back over her shoulder. He was late. But he was never late. She checked her watch a mere three seconds after she had checked before. Yes, by her watch he was definitely late.

Leaning against the stony wall, she thought back over the past few months… over how this game started. It had been one day in the earlier part of this year at breakfast. She had looked up from her biscuits and gravy to find his cold eyes upon her. Unblinking. Unmoving. She had cocked an eyebrow and then returned to her breakfast. After that, throughout the day, she felt like she was being watched.

At every voice and every noise, she whipped her head around, looking for him. By the end of the day she was convinced that he was stalking her. The next morning, she skipped breakfast. She went to the Library for lunch, and snuck out to the Quidditch pitch for her supper. This pattern continued for a week and of course everyone questioned her strange behavior. When she refused to give an answer, they all shrugged it off – except her brother, Hermione, and Harry. The three of the cornered and interrogated her.

It had been a while since she had eaten a complete meal, and she was so hungry that her mind was not functioning as sharply as normal. Hermione accused her of anorexia, and upon hearing that word, Ron just fumed about stupidity. Harry just studied her calmly and Hermione and Ron began to bicker among themselves.

Under Harry's gaze, Ginny started to fidget and twist strands of her hair around her fingers. He just stared at her… unblinking and unmoving. "Stop it," she whispered, fighting the urge to run. "Harry, please stop."

"Just tell me what is bothering you, Ginny. Is it something serious?"

"No… it's not serious. It's silly."

"Not eating isn't silly."

"I'm not anorexic!" she shouted, pushing through them. When Hermione tried to stop her, she whirled on the other girl and without thinking cast the Bat Bogey Hex. Ron immediately tried to reverse it (by some chance, he managed to turn it into a Mosquito Bogey Hex) but Harry just stared after her. She didn't turn. She hated it when people stared.

In her storming away she came across him. She saw him watching out of the corner of his eye, tucked away in a niche, and book hiding half of his face. _That's it,_ she thought. _ Two can play at that game. _ Ever since, she had taken to watching him. She still skipped meals – that had become a bit of a habit – just to take away his opportunities to watch her. But it seemed to her that he had caught onto her games. He found other ways to watch her. In library… on the Quidditch Pitch… in the halls between classes. It was actually quite unnerving.

One afternoon it had occurred to her that he must have memorized her schedule. He was always right there. So she in turn memorized his. Which was why she was confused now. He was never late… always exactly on time. Every Thursday at 4:45 he always used this back corridor to get to his Ancient Runes class. Where was he?

She knew he wasn't sick. She had seen him earlier today before Herbology. And she knew that sometimes he changed his routine just to throw her off… but he had changed to this two weeks ago. It was too soon.

She waited until 5:15, and then decided that he wasn't coming. She turned to leave and turned into him. He had a plate in his hand. She glared at him icily. "Stop watching me." This was the same conversation they always had. And he would say, "Why don't you stop watching me."

"Eat something."

Ginny's eyes narrowed. He changed it. Why had he changed it?

"I don't need to. But you're late for –"

"Eat something." He thrust the plate towards her.

"Stop watching me."

"Why don't you stop watching me?" he answered dryly. "There. Does that suit you? Our intercourse is complete? Now eat something."

"Stop watching me!" she shouted, angry tears pricking at her eyes.

He rolled his own eyes. "Do we really have to go through this again? You need to eat something."

"How would you know?  
"You're never in the Great Hall," he answered matter-of-factly.

"That doesn't mean that I don't eat." She cocked an eyebrow, hoping that his next answer would prove her point.

"Well what do you expect me to think?" He was annoyed. She could tell by his voice. Ginny couldn't help but smirk a bit. "What's that for?"

"What?"

"The smirk."

She paused, slightly confused. "You smirk all the time. Why can't I?"

"Listen… I didn't miss my class to argue with you. Will you just eat something?"

"Why do you care?  
"Why do you assume I don't?"

"Because you're a MALFOY!"

The look on his face shocked her. He seemed surprised by her use of his name. They had only ever shared glares and quick glances since this whole thing had started. "And you're a Weasley. You're supposed to have an appetite like an elephant, and you're _not eating_."

"How can you even prove that I'm not eating?"

"How do you think? You watch me. I watch you. Don't you think that I would be able to see the rapid loss of weight and temper with your friends?"

Her face fell and her voice rang with disappointment. "So you weren't spying unnecessarily on me?"

"No more than you have been on me."

She set her jaw firmly and flung her hair back over her thing shoulders. "I'm not going to eat anything. I'm perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern." Her voice bit through the air.

"Why are you upset with me?"

"You ruined it."

"Ruined what?"

"The game."

He paused and threw the plate of food down at her feet. "It's not a game anymore! It stopped being a game the instant you stopped eating."

"Why do you care?" The tears began poking her eyes again.

"That doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. You don't care about anyone, and yet here you are with this." She gestured to the ground and the scattered food.

"Eat something first."

"No."

"WEASLEY, EAT SOMETHING!" he shouted, rushing at her and pinning her up against the wall. She struggled against him, but found her muscles tired easily. "Ever wonder why you are having more and more trouble at Quidditch? Don't you wish that you could throw me off of you? You could, if only you would eat something. Don't you wish that you could focus like you used to be able to? I see your eyes wandering all the time. Don't you want to return to the way you used to be?"

"No! I don't. I've gotten used to not eating. There is no reason for me to do it anymore."

"How about staying alive? You could kill yourself this way."

"Why do you care?" She screeched, struggling against him again. The tears came freely now. All she wanted was to curl up on her bed. All she wanted was to be rid of this game… and of him.

"You're the only worthy opponent in this school, Weasley."

"But Harry and-"

"The three of them are a challenge magically, but not intellectually."

"Hermione ha-"

"She is an academic challenge. You are the only one who could possibly outwit me, and if you think I would let you wither away, you're wrong." He stepped away and let her scurry away from the wall. "Eat something, Weasley, or I will have you hospitalized."

"You've got no proof."

He smirked. "Look in the mirror sometime. Your face is proof enough." He turned and strode away quickly, leaving her alone in the hall.

Her small body shook with tears. How could he do that? How? She stared down at the food. Fried chicken and mashed potatoes…her favorite. After a half an hour of staring and smelling the food, she reached out a shaky hand and took a piece of the chicken. The taste was awkward and the feeling of food in her mouth almost made her sick, but she ate it anyways.

The next morning, she ventured shyly into the Great Hall. Hermione immediately made room for her, and slowly, Ginny took a plate and put small amounts of oatmeal and fruit on her plate. "It's good to see you again," Harry said from across the table. She looked up to reply but was distracted by an unblinking stare. After meeting his gaze for an instant, she averted her eyes and tentatively began her meal.

Throughout breakfast, she was aware of him. Shaking her head, she tried to disregard him. _I hate it when people stare. Alright, that's it. Two can play at this game._ She lifted her eyes and stared back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. 

**Author's Note:** Yes, this is the second chapter, and the end of, Fried Chicken. This chapter was written for a challenge, which is why there is the massive flashback. Enjoy! And thanks to Lou for betaing. :)

* * *

He waited for her again, plate in hand. She couldn't keep playing games like this. His grey eyes narrowed… sometimes he thought she did this just to insult him. Yes, it was an insult. He had voiced a legitimate concern about her eating habits only to have it thrown back into his face. Yes, she had stopped the prolonged suicide. Yes, she had eaten regularly for about two weeks. And then she had fallen back to her habit.

It was completely and utterly infuriating. He couldn't loose the best opponent he had come across – good or bad. Draco sighed and looked to the wall impatiently. She should be coming around the corner soon. There was no other way for her to reach the greenhouses. _C'mon Ginny… where are you?_

---

Everything had been fine that day. Really.

…

It had been like it had been for the past three months at least. She would wake up and go to all her classes, drink lots of water, and then do her homework. And after the pains in her stomach had quieted, she would fall asleep. Some days she would watch Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Harry had kicked her off after her sixth fall from her broom. "It's for your own good," he had told her. "Get it together, and then maybe we'll let you back on the team."

Get what together? She had everything together. She was fine… she was fine.

Except for the fact that she was always hungry.

Except for the fact that she didn't eat.

She rounded the corner to on her way to Herbology, these thoughts running through her head. Everything was fine… except for the fact that Draco Malfoy was standing in front of her with a plate of fried chicken. "What are you doing here?"

"The same thing as last time."

"Which was?"

"C'mon Weasley…"

"I don't understand why you are here now. I stopped the competition."

"And then you stopped eating, again."

"I'm not your opponent anymore!" she shouted, loosing her temper very quickly. She whipped out her wand and pointed it at him. "Don't make me use my Bat-Bogey Hex."

"By all means," he growled, charging her and smashing her back against the wall. She cried out, but couldn't push him off her. "Don't you remember the last time this happened? The last time we did this? The game you talked about? You had waited for me because of that stupid 'game.' And you had refused to listen to me? Remember?"

---

_She waited until 5:15, and then decided that he wasn't coming. She turned to leave and turned into him. He had a plate in his hand. She glared at him icily. "Stop watching me." This was the same conversation they always had. And he would say, "Why don't you stop watching me."_

_"Eat something."_

_Ginny's eyes narrowed. He changed it. Why had he changed it?_

_"I don't need to. But you're late for –"_

_"Eat something." He thrust the plate towards her._

_"Stop watching me."_

_"Why don't you stop watching me?" he answered dryly. "There. Does that suit you? Our intercourse is complete? Now eat something."_

_"Stop watching me!" she shouted, angry tears pricking at her eyes._

_He rolled his own eyes. "Do we really have to go through this again? You need to eat something."_

_"How would you know?_

"You're never in the Great Hall," he answered matter-of-factly.

_"That doesn't mean that I don't eat." She cocked an eyebrow, hoping that his next answer would prove her point._

_"Well what do you expect me to think?" He was annoyed. She could tell by his voice. Ginny couldn't help but smirk a bit. "What's that for?"_

_"What?"_

_"The smirk."_

_She paused, slightly confused. "You smirk all the time. Why can't I?"_

_"Listen… I didn't miss my class to argue with you. Will you just eat something?"_

_"Why do you care?  
"Why do you assume I don't?"_

_"Because you're a MALFOY!"_

_The look on his face shocked her. He seemed surprised by her use of his name. They had only ever shared glares and quick glances since this whole thing had started. "And you're a Weasley. You're supposed to have an appetite like an elephant, and you're not eating."_

_"How can you even prove that I'm not eating?"_

_"How do you think? You watch me. I watch you. Don't you think that I would be able to see the rapid loss of weight and temper with your friends?"_

_Her face fell and her voice rang with disappointment. "So you weren't spying unnecessarily on me?"_

_"No more than you have been on me."_

_She set her jaw firmly and flung her hair back over her thing shoulders. "I'm not going to eat anything. I'm perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern." Her voice bit through the air._

_"Why are you upset with me?"_

_"You ruined it."_

_"Ruined what?"_

_"The game."_

_He paused and threw the plate of food down at her feet. "It's not a game anymore! It stopped being a game the instant you stopped eating."_

_"Why do you care?" The tears began poking her eyes again._

_"That doesn't matter."_

_"Yes it does. You don't care about anyone, and yet here you are with this." She gestured to the ground and the scattered food._

_"Eat something first."_

_"No."_

"_WEASLEY, EAT SOMETHING!"_

---

"I remember," she answered quietly. He had been right that day… which was exactly why she had ended the game. Why she had stopped watching him. Why she had stopped waiting for him. And now he had started again… he had made it wrong for her to starve herself again. Her eyes narrowed in anger. "You're a bastard," she spat, shaking her red hair out of her eyes. "Now, get off of me."

"No," he answered flatly, not phased by her sudden swing of emotion. "Not until you agree to eat something."

"I will NOT!" she screeched, struggling against him again. "Let me go! Let me go!"

"NO!

"Draco, get off of me!"

"NO!"

The two caused such a racket, what with the plate of chicken clattering to the floor, Ginny's screams, and Draco's forceful denials, that both McGonagall and Flitwick came running. "Oh goodness," McGonagall barked, pulling out her wand and freezing the two in time. "What do we have here?" she murmured as she and Professor Flitwick pried Draco off of Ginny. "I think we'd better bring these two to the Headmaster." With another flick of her wand, she unfroze the two spiteful enemies and led them to Dumbledore's office.

---

"So what exactly is the problem?" Dumbledore asked quietly, studying the two of them. The lines on Draco's face were so set, and so determined that the Headmaster had to question the intentions of the boy. "You understand that your actions do seem rather incriminating, Mr. Malfoy."

"Sir, I can explain," he answered tightly, not even throwing a glance to Ginny.

"You will not!" she interjected, her voice rising to a shrill pitch.

"And why not, Miss Weasley?" The youngest Weasley did not look well. She was a skeleton, supporting a skin case. She was as much of a ghost as the Bloody Baron. "You do not look quite like yourself."

She winced at his last comment, but decided to answer the first question. "It is my business, therefore, my business to tell. He has no right."

"Then why don't you tell me the problem, Miss Weasley?" Her gaze dropped, ashamed, to the floor.

"She won't tell you, sir," Draco said through clenched teeth.

"And how do you know this?"

"Because she won't admit it to herself."

"Admit what?"

Draco didn't even miss a beat. He had gotten into this and he wasn't going to back out now. It was not in his nature to quit, though he was up against his most stubborn opponent. "That she's starving herself."

"I am not!"

Dumbledore did not seem surprised. His previous look at Ginny's face had given him enough of a clue. "And why, Miss Weasley/"

"I'm not."

"She's lying."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. That will be all." Without a word, Draco left the office. At least he had done something. After he had left, Dumbledore turned back to Ginny. "Now, Miss Weasley, I think that maybe you and I ought-"

"I don't need any help. I don't need to talk about this."

"I think that maybe you protest too much."

Ginny fell silent. She couldn't take this life. She just couldn't deal with people caring about her. She was a disaster. She should just end it… now. "I'm sorry Professor," she answered quietly, letting her thoughts consume her. "Maybe… maybe I should go."

"No."

_You don't understand. I need to be rid of this. Of all of this. I just cause trouble. Even my enemy cares about me… that should say something, right? Am I that bad of a person?_

"Sit down, Miss Weasley."

_No. If I sit down, I will have the chance to solve this problem. I don't want that chance. I don't deserve to be rid of this. I don't._

Ginny stood abruptly and rushed to the door. "Now Ginny, we both know that you are not going to leave this room." She closed her eyes, hand on the knob. _Just turn the handle and leave. Just go… you can._ "Come and sit back down. You and I have many things to discuss."

She fought her tears and her conscience and couldn't decide one way or another.

---

Draco fumed in the Slytherin Common Room. She had no right to do this to herself. She had no right to engage him in a combat of wit and then to pull out. She had no right to make him feel like a failure.

And that what he had felt like the majority of this year. Ever since she had matched his stare. He felt as though he'd failed… and he had never dealt well with failure. He glanced at his forearms. Pain would not be enough this time. He would have to show her… show her that she couldn't kill herself.

He thought about it for a few more hours. Yes, it was the only way to make this right. It was his fault after all… he had stared at her first. He had gotten himself involved that first day with the fried chicken. And he had made this whole thing go on when he began it all again… and when he showed up again with the food.

Yes. It was his fault. It was his duty to make it right. That would be the only way to rid himself of this feeling of mediocrity. He hated mediocrity. Gripping his wand determinedly, he rose from the couch, not a falter in his step. There was no other way. He had to show her. He had to make her cry. He had to scare her back into a worthwhile existence.

"What about your own existence?" a voice in his head asked.

_I live for challenges, and this, in itself, will be one._

---

Ginny left the Headmaster's office full of guilt, full of tears, full of sorrow, and full of chicken. Dumbledore had coerced her into eating, making her realize her own foolishness. She wouldn't do it anymore.

In all honesty, she'd forgotten how good food tasted… how much she enjoyed eating. Malfoy had been right. She wasn't a Weasley unless she ate.

Nonchalant and vindicated, she turned the last corner before the Gryffindor portrait hole. She turned. She stopped breathing. She suppressed a scream.

Draco lay before her, gallantly resting in a pool of his own blood. His pale face was turned towards her, ghostly white in the crimson. His wand lay carelessly in his right hand, the weapon used to slash each wrist. His other hand stretched towards her, beckoning her, clutching a bloodstained piece of parchment.

She couldn't move.

She didn't more for a very long time.

His steely eyes watched her even in death. He just stared at her. His corpse just stared at her. And she tried to stare back, but she couldn't. She couldn't.

Finally, she found the strength to break out of her paralysis and drop to her knees, and very unwilling, reached for the paper and unfolded it. Then she collapsed.

_Ginny Weasley,_

_Do not let my death be in vain._

After a long cry and adamant refusal of any sort of comfort, she raised her eyes to Draco's face. He was staring. She hated it when people stared. But, somewhere within herself, she found the courage to stare back. And then she found the courage to stand and walk, bloodstained, to the Great Hall. His suicide note in hand, she sank onto a bench and waited for breakfast.


End file.
